


Always Loved a Man in Uniform

by RedFive



Series: A Side of Canadian Bacon [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #JustFuckMeUp, Both boys have trouble staying in character, Bottom Hannibal, Dark Will, Hannibal Cooks, Hannibal Cre-Ate-Tive, Hints of Submissive Will, Light Bondage, M/M, Murder Husbands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Police Brutality, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sexual Roleplay, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7081126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFive/pseuds/RedFive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will takes a job as a security guard at a local hospital, and discovers that Hannibal has something of a uniform fetish. However, their roleplay takes a turn towards the dark when memories of their troubled past rise to the surface. (Written for Hannibal Cre-Ate-Tive's #JustFuckMe kink challenge.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Miranda Rights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arydis_Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arydis_Hope/gifts).



> Written for Hannibal Cre-Ate-Tive's #JustFuckMe kink challenge. Special thanks to my bestie for the idea. What would I do without you encouraging me to be incorrigible?

_I needed this,_ Will thought as he climbed the porch steps. He'd spent a full day away from Hannibal, and tomorrow he'd do the same when he went back to work. _I already feel like a different man._

He hated feeling this way, but when you dated a psychiatrist long enough, you began to appreciate the importance of self-care. While Will didn't sense that the good doctor _trying_ to be manipulative anymore, old habits died hard, and no one fought death harder than Hannibal Lecter.

Lately, Will found himself leaping to be put under his control rather than fighting it, which was the inevitable outcome of spending so much time under Hannibal's influence. Will knew he couldn't let this get out of hand because if it did, the amount of damage he and Hannibal could cause would be the stuff of legend. Will was sure he didn't want that. This was enough. This simple life with Hannibal. He could accept and even enjoy the littler monstrosities—hunting down evil men and bringing them to justice (and to the dinner table, which Hannibal insisted upon)—but true cruelty...no.

So he'd taken a job as a security guard at a hospital in Victoria, Canada. It was as close to his old life as it was safe for him to have. Will didn't want to attract notice from the local police by joining them while on the run with the world's most notorious serial killer, but he still needed the structure that law enforcement provided.

Unfortunately, security work was also indescribably boring. There were no puzzles to solve and no murderers to hunt, but it was physical work and being at the hospital, particularly near the ER where the carnage was always the worst, made him feel like the old Will Graham again.

Hannibal had left all the curtains open, which let Will see into the kitchen from the front door where Hannibal stood by the stove stirring a small pot and drinking a glass of red wine. Classical music blasted over the interior speakers. Will didn't recognize the composition, but that hardly mattered. He heard a lot of brass and the deep, rolling thunder of the timpani, which was perfect for his design.

He put his key into the door, and waited until the next crescendo to slip inside. He moved slowly as he made his way to the kitchen laying his feet down with quiet precision.

Will paused to admire how Hannibal's ass looked in his pinstriped pants as he bent over to pull dinner out of the oven. Then Will let himself imagine shoving Hannibal into that oven like the witch from Hansel and Gretel. His mind conjured up the smell of burning flesh as it peeled itself back from the bone. It was taking everything he had to stay put and not bring those screams to life. Oh yes, the old Will Graham was back.

Will cracked his neck to announce his arrival.

"Welcome home," Hannibal said cheerily before turning around with a cheese soufflé held between two oven mitts.

But when Hannibal's eyes fell on him, standing in the kitchen in his uniform and the glint of violence in his eyes, he startled in a way that Will had never seen before.

Hannibal dropped their dinner onto the floor.

Will's dark mood evaporated swifter than a spring rabbit thinking that Hannibal had accidentally burned himself on his account.

"Are you okay?" Will asked. His blue eyes shifted to large pools of concern and worry.

Hannibal remained silent and didn't move an inch. Will stripped off the oven mitts and checked the front and back of Hannibal's hands for injury. He seemed fine, but then Will remembered the soufflé. "Shit," Will cursed and swiped a dish towel off the countertop.

He knelt down and spread the towel onto the floor. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that," he said and gathered the largest chunks of food onto the towel. Will kept his eyes on the floor. His voice radiated regret. So much for the old Will Graham, who had retreated to the farthest corners of his mind. Coward. That was the thing about his fantasies these days, they lacked teeth.

Will picked up what he could and turned sheepish eyes towards his partner. Hannibal stood white-knuckled before him. He gripped the the lip of the counter leaning away from Will as far as he could. The sight horrified Will. "I-I'm so sorry," Will repeated and felt the prick of tears behind his eyes. He knew nothing was more rude to Hannibal than wasting food. Will's insides twisted in shame.

"What are you wearing?" Hannibal said strangely.

"My uniform?" Will answered warily. Why wasn't Hannibal lecturing him about dinner yet? "Look, I know this much polyester must offend you, but you had to have known that they wouldn't issue me anything fancy when I went back to work."

"I don't even know who ' _they_ ' are," Hannibal hissed. "You wouldn't tell me anything except that you took a job as a security guard and to ' _mind my own business_ '. That's it, Will. I expected you to walk through that door looking like a doorman or a mall cop."

Hannibal's words made Will wilt. If his hands weren't covered in egg, he would have gripped Hannibal by the knees and begged for forgiveness. Christ, he was in a bad way. But it didn't take a genius to realize that ruining Hannibal's $300 dollar, perfectly tailored pants was the wrong way to restore himself to the devil's good graces. 

The cruelest irony of this whole situation was that Will had only told Hannibal to _'mind his own business'_ to excite him. At no point during their friendship had Hannibal ever NOT minded Will's business. Typical. The one time Hannibal chose to respect Will's boundaries it _would_ blow up in his face. Such was the life and luck of Will Graham.

Will looked down at his slate grey uniform and couldn't see what was so abhorrent about it. He supposed that the heavy boots, the utility belt, and the radio strapped to his shoulder gave him a more tacticle appearance. Maybe Hannibal worried that Will was considering returning to his old life as a police officer on the other side of the veil. "And this makes you mad?" Will asked trying to figure the man out.

"No," Hannibal said flatly, but his nostrils flared in direct contradiction to the statement.

Will took another look with his profiler's mind and analyzed Hannibal's body language like he would a crime scene. Hannibal's jaw was locked like a hound who had seized on a bone. His pupils were dilated, and his breathing was noticeably irregular. This wasn't anger, Will realized. This was something much more familiar. By the time Will's eyes reached Hannibal's waist, his suspicions were confirmed. While not fully erect yet, there was a visible bulge at Hannibal's crotch.

Understanding replaced the worry in Will's eyes. "Hannibal," he said, "have you ever seen a photo of me in uniform? When I was cop?"

"No," Hannibal replied. "You had such things?" His voice sounded hopeful.

Will grinned. _Gotcha_ , his old self murmured returning when Will realized that the power dynamic between them did not favor Hannibal right now. Will stood up leaving the towel on the floor. He stepped over the ruined soufflé and faced Hannibal. They stood chest-to-chest and only inches apart. At this distance, he knew Hannibal could smell his sweat and the terrible aftershave he hated so much, which Will refused to change just to be difficult. "I'm surprised. There was a whole box in my closest. I thought you would have found them when you were in my home...framing me for murder."

"Believe me, I wish I had, my Leonidas."

"Invoking classical epic already, Doctor? And I haven't even gotten your clothes off," Will tutted and wiped his hands and Hannibal's vest.

Before Hannibal could let loose a single sound of reproach, Will kissed him hard on the lips and had Hannibal's bottom lip between his teeth. 

Between the uniform and Will's uncharacteristically aggressive lead, Hannibal was hard and all hands in no time at all.

Will raised his dominant hand to grasp Hannibal by the back of the neck.

"Since you already ruined dinner, let's go upstairs," Hannibal murmured. Lust dripped from his voice like snake venom.

Will almost caved and went with him. He could almost never resist when Hannibal called to like that, and Will ached inside to receive him. "In a minute," Will muttered and drew two deep breaths to lower his heart rate before what came next.

"First, about that framing me for murder thing...." he said and dug his fingertips into Hannibal's neck. He pivoted and hurled Hannnibal to the floor, tossing him over his hip like an MMA fighter. "Fuck you, Hannibal."

Hannibal looked up at him from all fours. He wore an expression of surprise and hurt that would have been funny if it didn't remind Will of that night in Baltimore and Abigail when their roles had been reversed.

Will kicked Hannibal in the stomach to make him stop looking at him. The kick was hard enough to hurt but not to take his breathe away—that would come later. "Stay down or the next time I kick-in your teeth," he shouted.

Hannibal rose to his knees but moved no further. He was smiling now, which was both good and bad. Good because it meant Hannnibal saw this most recent attempt on his life for what it was really was. Bad because Hannibal failed to realize how much that smile would piss Will off. He hadn't been kidding about still being annoyed about the whole _'framed for murder'_ thing. Oh, he was going to wipe that smile off Hannibal's face tonight, smug bastard.

Will walked to the far end of the kitchen closing each of the blinds as he did. He didn't want any of the neighbors calling the actual police while they played their little game.

He stopped at their "special" drawer and removed a couple of zip-ties and a gun, which he insisted they keep there. Hannibal disliked guns in the house, but Will kept several around for insurance. The safest route wasn't the most intimate, but Will would be damned if he lost Hannibal because some local cop got too curious and managed to get a shot off before either he or Hannibal could act.

Will undid the safety and pointed the gun at Hannibal. It had been a long time since he had held a gun, but it still felt natural in his hands. That hadn't always been the case. He felt a pang of sadness remembering when that had changed. It was Beverly who had corrected his stance after he'd made a bloody mess of Garret Jacob Hobbs's chest. Loyal Beverly. Of all the people Will had known, she had been the best of them. Even Alanna had become cold and cruel at the end, but not Beverly. Beverly had believed. Beverly had been his friends, and like all his friends, Hannibal had taken her away too.

"Hands behind your head," Will growled and meant every ounce of his anger.

Hannibal still smiled, but there was a cautiousness to his movements that indicated he was taking this more seriously now. "Is there a problem, officer?" he asked committing to the game.

Will approached Hannibal and struck him across the face with the butt of the gun, which sent him to the ground again.

Before Hannibal could get back up, Will had him by the hair and forced him back to his knees. "That's Special Agent Graham to you, asshole," Will said into Hannibal's ear before shoving him back onto the floor. Will dropped to one knee on top of Hannibal's spine while he clicked the safety of his gun back onto place and holstered the weapon in his belt. Next Will adjusted himself so he could zip-tie Hannibal's wrists behind his back.

"Hannibal Lecter, you are under arrest for the murder of Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, Georgia Madchen, Beverly Katz, and Abigail Hobbs."

"You forgot about Franklyn," Hannibal chortled.

"Oh we are gonna have a long talk about everyone I forgot," Will said and yanked Hannibal to his feet. Will pushed him into the hallway and towards the stairs on their left. "However, should you choose, you have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law," Will said.

The Miranda rights felt strange on his tongue. Even when he worked with the FBI, he never made arrests. But he knew the words still, probably better than his own address. He'd trained hard at the academy as a young man. They would always be a part of him no matter how far he strayed from the light. "You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish."

Hannibal glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming. "You don't sound very comfortable, Will. Are you sure you're ready to do this? Just how many arrests did you make before you became too unstable for service?"

It was the wrong thing to say, which made it the perfect thing to keep Will in character and out of his own head.

Will kicked Hannibal's feet out from under him. With his hands tied, Hannibal fell face-first onto the carpeted stairs. Will hoisted him back onto his feet by the belt while Hannibal was still sputtering and trying to catch his breath. "Ooops," Will said snidely. "Watch where you're going next time."

"How clumsy of me," Hannibal said politely, which was followed by a light and airy chuckle.

Will kicked the legs out from under Hannibal a second time since the suspect needed another lesson on what being mouthy was going to cost him.

Will leaned against the bannister and let Hannibal pick himself up this time. With his hands tied behind his back, it was an obvious struggle and inelegant in appearance. Afterwards, Hannibal didn't respond except to mutter a single, menacing "heh".

"If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney," Will continued as they reached the top of the landing.

The master bedroom was only one door down. Will shoved Hannibal through the open portal and locked the door behind him for added dramatics. When Will turned around, Hannibal stood at the center of the room with his legs slightly apart and shoulders squared. The bruising and carpet burn on his face gave him a savage visage.

Will battled the urge to walk over to him, push the hair out of his eyes, and trail soft, loving kisses over his purple flesh. But that man was not the man Hannibal waited for now. He wanted the wolf in the shepard's clothing.

"Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?"

"That depends on you, _Agent_ Graham. How persuasive can you be?" 

Will removed the radio and utility belt so he could move easier, but left the heavy combat boots on since this was about the uniform for Hannibal. He made two silent circles around the suspect stalkng him like a shark. Will felt Hannibal's eyes trace every part of him, but the tension was most palpable when Will disappeared from Hannibal's line of sight.

When he'd finished letting Hannibal admire him. Will stopped in front of Hannibal and sneered. "Look at you. Hornier than a seventh grader at his first dance. "I don't think I'll have to be very persuasive at all. I think you'll be begging to tell me everything in under ten minutes."

"You're a confident one," Hannibal said.

Will reached into a pocket of his pants and withdrew a bone-handled pocket knife. "I think you'll find I had a good teacher."


	2. Time's Up, Doctor Lecter

Will reached into a pocket and withdrew a bone-handled pocket knife. "I think you'll find I had a good teacher."

Hannibal laughed and flexed his shoulders straining against his bonds. "Oh my beloved, how you continue to surprise me," he said breaking character.

Will glared back at him squinting so he couldn't see the love leaking out of Hannibal's eyes. He stepped forward, flipped the blade open, _and sliced through Hannibal's vest._

Hannibal leapt backwards. The vest hung open, damaged beyond repair. "Will!" he shouted and looked absolutely livid.

"Agent Graham," Will corrected. "Have you ever played strip poker, Doctor Lecter? Because it's going to be like that until you tell me what I want to know. Did you murder Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, Georgia Madchen, Beverly Katz, and Abigail Hobbs?"

"I decline to answer," Hannibal said sounding mildly annoyed.

Will advanced on him. Hannibal tried to dodge, but Will grabbed him by the elbow and spun him around. Will cut at the cuff of one sleeve. There was a soft metallic bounce as a cufflink skittered across the dark wood floors.

Will released Hannibal and backed away grinning. He spun the knife in this hand with a flourish.

Hannibal bared his teeth in a silent snarl.

"Did you murder Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, Georgia Madchen, Beverly Katz, and Abigail Hobbs?" Will asked again.

"I decline to answer," and there was nothing mild about the annoyance in his voice this time.

"You wouldn't say that if you understood me properly, Doctor. You're not afraid of me because you think you're better than me," Willl said. "Even with your hands tied behind your back, you still think you can take me out."

Hannibal drew himself up to his full height and raised his chin. Even bruised and beat up, he looked regal. Any other evening, Will would have dropped to his knees and sucked him off.

"Come on then, show me what you've got. I'll even make it easier," Will taunted and switched the knife to his non-dominate hand.

Hannibal charged before the motion was complete. Any other day, Hannibal would have overpowered Will without much fuss. He was frightfully strong for a man his age, and it was legitimately terrifying. But even the great Hannibal Lecter needed at least one hand free to be effective.

Their bodies collided, and Will brought him down to the ground easily. Will grabbed Hannibal by the belt and held the blade to his crotch.

The suspect went still immediately.

"Did you murder Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, Georgia Madchen, Beverly Katz, and Abigail Hobbs?"

Hannibal looked at Will with uncertainty. His eyes darted down to the hand that held the knife then back up to Will's face. Maybe he worried that Will had disassociated too strongly and gotten cared away by the fantasy. Ultimately, Hannibal declined to answer for a third time deciding that castration was not likely on the menu. Will did the only thing he could do next; he cut up Hannibal's belt.

"WILL!" Hannibal shouted and started to squirm again, but Will sheathed his blade between Hannibal's legs once more.

"Agent Graham," Will repeated. "Now, for the last time, did you _**kill**_ Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, Georgia Madchen, Beverly Katz, and Abigail Hobbs?"

"No," Hannibal said definitively.

Will looked at the clock. It hadn't been ten minutes yet, but now that Hannibal had dug-in, there was no way Will was going to get a confession out of him within the allotted time frame anyway. "Time's up, Doctor Lecter," Will sighed. He returned the knife to his opposite hand and began cutting away Hannibal's white, silk shirt in large strips.

Hannibal groaned in agony at the desecration of his shirt.

Will had probably ruined about $1,000 worth of apparel this evening and felt alarmingly good about it. _'When you mess with the bull, you get the horns,'_ he wanted to say, but the words sounded petulant and a little old-fashioned. They weren't the kind of words 'Agent Graham' would say. He'd be cooler than that, more like James Bond or one of the villains. The one in Casino Royale had been pretty good.

Hannibal coughed, a subtle demand for Will's attention. That was the problem with this sort of play for Will. He needed to let his mind wander from his sense-of-self to assume someone else's personality, but then it kept wandering sometimes.

Will looked down, tilted his head to this side, and tried to regain his bearings. Hannibal lay bare chested on top of the remains of his shirt with his hands still tied behind his back. The silk was no longer recognizable as a shirt, and looked more like a pair of broken wings. Between that and the bruising on his face, he looked like Lucifer after the fall. It was beautiful.

Will couldn't help himself. He leaned down and kissed Hannibal beneath each eye and then kissed him once on the forehead. He hated to pull away, hated it as much as he had hated prison.

Hannibal was smiling again, which made this next part so much worse. Will raised his knife, cringed, and then planted it in their new, mahogany floors.

Hannibal's head whipped to the side. He openly gaped at the sight, looking like a trout that had been left out of the water for too long.

Three months. Three months of bickering about the damn floors: which wood to pick; how thick the boards should be; the expense; the contractors; could Hannibal eat the impolite contractors after they tried to cheat them out of an extra $800. Three months and Will had just put a two inch nick in them... _intentionally_.

Will cupped Hannibal's chin in his hand, and forced him to make eye contact. "Take your shoes off, and get on the bed. You want this done the hard way? Fine. But you did that, not me,' he said and nodded at the knife.

Hannibal nodded, but he still looked a little dazed. Will rolled off of him and stood up. He fell into Parade Rest while he waited. With his feet shoulder-width apart and hands behind his back, Will looked every bit the militant. 

Hannibal rose with difficulty and shook himself free of his ruined clothes; however, his shoes gave him more trouble. He hopped around on one foot for a time trying to pry his heel free with the other. Finally, he gave up and sat on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed. His ears and cheeks were bright red either from exertion, embarrassment, or some combination of the two.

"Problems, Lecter?"

Hannibal's eyes widened in anger and then narrowed. Apparently, it was one thing to revert to a more formal address during their play, but another thing to drop the honorific of 'Doctor' all together. Will had done it one a whim. That whim appeared to be inspired now. ' _Oh I'm discovering so many new buttons to push tonight,"_ Will longed to brag about all of this. He imagined Hannibal would be quite proud of how expertly he had dismantled Hannibal's forts tonight—after he had forgiven Will for the floor."

"I require some assistance, _Agent_ Graham," Hannibal said insisting on civility despite Will's abandonment of it.

"You need only to ask," Will said softening his voice and kneeling before Hannibal, but this time Will had not broken character with his submissive behavior. He bowed his head to keep his cruel eyes hidden while he removed Hannibal's shoes and socks.

"Did you kill those women?" he asked keeping his voice sweet.

"I said I did not. Is this the kind of quality training they give trainees act at Quantico these days?"

Will stood up and leaned over Hannibal. He pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge in Hannibal's pants and began to rub. "They teach us many things at the academy, but not this. This is my own brand of justice," he whispered.

Hannibal exhaled near Will's ear. "I know what you think I am, and if it were true, you would be unwise to bare your neck to me," he said and snapped his teeth close to Will's skin.

Will pulled away and stepped back so Hannibal could see him fully from the bed. Will unzipped his pants and pulled out his dick. "Is this what you want?" he asked and began to stroke himself.

To his credit, Hannibal twitched but did not lean forward. 

"It's obvious, you know, and as clear as the crimes you committed. You want this," Will said rubbing his thumb around the head of his penis. "You want _me_ inside you. Hell, I bet you're so hard it hurts."

Hannibal shifted uncomfortably.

"Give me a confession," Will said.

"That's entrapment," Hannibal huffed and rolled his eyes.

Will stopped and licked the pre-come off his hand. "Then give it to me willingly."

Hannibal shivered and lowered his head. "No," he said so softly that Will nearly missed it. It occurred to Will that Hannibal might honestly be fighting to protect his secrets. They rarely discussed his crimes. Maybe there was something he didn't wish to discuss about those Ripper cases. Will stomach clenched. Finally, he had a puzzle to solve.

"Stand," Will ordered.

Hannibal jumped to his feet much more eager to respond to Will's physical commands than to his questions.

Will removed the remains of the leather belt, and loosened Hannibal's pants until they fell off his slender hips. The cheeky bastard was not even wearing any underwear. "Were you expecting something tonight, Lecter?"

Another flash of anger flickered within Hannibal's eyes, but was quickly replaced with sardonic humor. "Well, yes, and so I'm pleased you asked. I had planned a simple yet elegant meal for my compassionate and thoughtful companion, but then _you_ came along instead and ruined it with your ill-temper and intolerable manners, _Agent_ Graham."

Will chuckled and licked his thumb and index finger. He took Hannibal's nipple between his two fingers and rubbed it gently. He let his other hand rest on Hannibal's shoulder. "This may be hard for you to do, but I want you to forget about him while I'm here," Will said. "Think only of me, me and the women you killed."

Well that statement set-off a firework. He had barely finished the sentence before Hannibal had shoved his tongue into Will's mouth. It wasn't the confession Will had been fishing for, but in that moment, he wanted nothing else.


	3. I Need This, Hannibal

He felt Hannibal test his restraints again, which was Will's queue to regain control of the scenario before Hannibal broke free and threw him down onto the mattress. Will twisted Hannibal's nipple hard. The suspect yelped and jumped away, but he tripped on the edge of the bed and fell backwards onto it.

"Beauty but no grace. I've gotta say, Lecter, you aren't living up to your reputation. Ready to confess yet?"

"I have nothing to tell _you_ ," Hannibal hissed.

"Would you tell him? Your weak-ass boyfriend?"

Hannibal looked away. "Maybe."

That was interesting. If Will were a glass half-full kind of guy, he'd assume Hannibal was trying to protect him. But Will's glass was always empty, and this was unwelcomed news since he had assumed they were beyond secrets at this point. "Worried he can't handle it? Worried he'd leave you?"

Hannibal didn't look worried. He didn't even look pissed by the suggestion. He projected a sense of unconcerned and detachment—like the threat of Will leaving didn't matter to him at all.

The thought nagged at Will, and wounded his pride, which only gave 'Agent Graham' all the more encouragement to continue the attack.

"Probably cries at the sight of blood too. Pathetic."

"He does many things at the sight of blood," Hannibal said practically purring.

"Well if he's so great, maybe you don't want me afterall," Will said and began to tuck himself back into his pants with much discomfort.

Hannibal snapped back to attention. One look was all Will needed to erase any doubt. Hunger dripped from every pore of his body as his eyes took in the sight of Will in his uniform. "I want you both," he said.

Will wanted Hannibal too. Fun as it was running roughshod over him, Will wanted, no needed, to get on with this. "Glutton. We should have a safe word," Will said slipping out of character.

Hannibal blinked. He and Hannibal had safe words, but Will felt it important that 'they' had one too. Will didn't feel much like himself right now, and he couldn't, _wouldn't_ put Hannibak at risk in that way.

"Fine. Guantanamo," Hannibal said and tried unsuccessfully to flip his bangs out of his eyes.

"Cute," Will said.

"Brute," Hannibal snapped.

"Get on your stomach then if you're going to be a brat about it," Will ordered.

Hannibal closed his eyes and savored Will's words before obeying.

Will climbed onto the bed, and didn't bother to remove his boots. He reached across Hannibal's back for the lube, which they kept in the nightstand. He squeezed some onto his hand, and worked three fingers into Hannibal's hole with little by way of foreplay

Hannibal grunted, but he was soon smiling as Will pumped him aggressively with his hand. He moaned and pitched like a steer, but his movements only forced Will to go deeper. It was obvious in the way he moved, spearing himself on Will's hand, that he wanted more. He wanted Will's cock, and he wanted it now.

"How did you kill them, Lecter?"

"I didn't," Hannibal panted.

"Wrong answer," Will said adjusting Hannibal's body before he mounted him. He wasn't slow or gentle about it. He entered Hannibal with a quick, sure thrust.

Hannibal said something in another language, which was music to Will's ears. That always meant he was doing a good job.

Will gave up questioning Hannibal. All his concentration was spent riding Hannibal hard and on not finishing first.

When he felt Hannibal's climax rising, Will pulled out.

Hannibal said something in English, but it was muffled by the mattress. It sounded like "the most intolerable manners", which made Will chuckle.

Will stuck the tip of his index finger back into Hannibal's hole and rubbed the rim slowly. He kept his touch light, but the stimulation constant.

"Will...Agent Graham...ugh, whoever you are right now, please," Hannibal begged.

"For the last time, _Doctor_ Lecter," Will said and extended the honorific like it was a carrot, "did you murder Cassie Boyle, Marissa Schurr, Georgia Madchen, Beverly Katz, and Abigail Hobbs?

The muscles in Hannibal's shoulders tensed and then deflated. "Yes," he said simply.

"See now, that was't so hard," Will said. He withdrew his finger and slapped the top of Hannibal's ass. He was about to finish what he started when Hannibal's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Will, can I look at you?"

Will froze. Of course, Hannibal would want to do it face-to-face. This was about the uniform for him. Christ, Will felt like such an idiot for getting so caught up in the role that he'd forgotten that part. "Oh! Sorry!" he said when he could move once again. "Hang on a second."

Will climbed off the bed and retrieved the knife from the floorboards. He cut Hannibal free, folded the blade up, and shoved it back into his pocket.

Hannibal tried to rise up onto his hands, but his arms were useless after so long in restraints. He collapsed onto his chest and simply rolled over.

"Are you okay?" Will asked looking at the red marks around Hannibal's wrists with a mounting sense of guilt.

"Yes, my love, but please. I need you now," Hannibal said breatheless.

Will took Hannibal's legs and drew then over his hips. He eased himself back inside Hannibal.

Hannibal watched Will with adoring eyes as he shuddered around every thrust. Will tried to be gentle, but it was always so hard with Hannibal, who always drew out the worst out in him.

"Will, do you have any photos still?"

Will shook his head pumping Hannibal with some speed now. "No, but there are pictures online. I can show you tomorrow."

"NO!" Hannibal shouted. He grabbed his own dick and stroked himself as his strength returned. "No, that's okay, I think. I want to remember you this way—like you were tonight."

Will wiped a bead of sweat from his brow relieved to know that Hannibal had enjoyed himself. "Hannibal, I want you to come," he said experimentally, not really expecting anything from it. However, a stream of come landed on the front of Will's uniform only two strokes later. Will hooted. He'd never gotten that kind of response before, getting Hannibal to come on command like that (although Hannibal had managed the reverse half a dozen times now).

But Will still had one obvious unresolved issue.

Hannibal wiped the fluids, which cling to his hand, on Will's sleeve. "Get a fake badge next time," he said as an order.

"And handcuffs too?"Will could feel their roles beginning to reverse.

Hannibal smiled. "I should think that would go without saying. Will, not to be rude, but are you almost done? You put me through quite a lot tonight and..."

"You're a little sensitive, right?"

Hannibal would only shrug rather than admit outright to any such weakness.

Will thrust into him with force trying to speed things up.

Hannibal lifted his hips to take Will in deeper and moaned.

Will continued to hit that spot producing all manner of twitches and sounds from his partner. It moved Will closer to climax, but he just couldn't seem to get there.

"Take off the condom if you would like," Hannibal gasped.

Will pulled out and stripped off the condom. He pulled Hannibal's legs up to his shoulders to get a different angle, and slid back in. It was so warm and wet inside Hannibal without the condom. Will moved slowly luxuriating in the feeling, but it was still no good.

A thought occurring to him. "Hannibal, it's not enough. I need a name," Will said. For Hannibal, tonight had been about the uniform, but this had begun as an interrogation game for Will. He needed a confession. "I already knew about the others. I mean, I pretended I didn't, but I knew. Tell me about someone I don't know about."

"Will, don't," Hannibal said looking cross.

Will choked down some impolite language. He felt like he was going to exploded. Why was Hannibal being like this? "You gloat about everything you do well. Just this once, will you please gloat about one of your murders," he grumbled. "Hannibal, _I need this.._."

Hannibal considered the request between pained winces and pleasured sighs. "Jordan Reed," he finally said. "He rear-ended my car on the way to the opera. I missed the first half. So I took something he would miss, his heart."

It was the most patently Hannibal crime ever, and it would be very easy to verify, which was perhaps why Hannibal had chosen it. It had taken longer than 10 minutes, but Will had his confession. He had won. Very little had ever felt better than that orgasm. He arched and felt like a conquerer—like Alexander, Charlemagne, and Saladin all at once.

When he finished, he withdrew to the bathroom to give Hannibal time to compose himself in private. Hannibal was a man who didn't like to appear less than perfect, but he had been soaked with sweat and a shivering mess when Will had left him.

This also gave Will the opportunity to strip off his uniform and hide it in the bathroom for the time being. He doubted Hannibal was in shape for anything more tonight, but you never knew with him. He was a man of large appetites.

Will undressed all the way down to his birthday suit since his boxers and undershirt were in no condition to sleep in. Fortunately, he found a fresher set behind the door where he had dropped them this morning. It was strange to find them there at all. Hannibal usually picked up after Will whenever he left clothes on the floor (and fussed abominably about it).

_He was probably still pissed about the ''mind your own business' comment and spent all day in the kitchen._

Will splashed some water onto his face and tidied up as much as he could. He filled an empty glass with cold water, and readied his mind to return: to the bedroom; to their former roles; to Jordan Reed; to the truth and all its pesky consequences.

Hannibal waited for him in the next room, and wherever he was, Will would always follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! What fun! But guess what? The fun is not over. Who wants s fluffy epilogue? Cause I sure as hell want to write a fluffy epilogue.


	4. Just Fluff Me Up

Hannibal lay on his back with one knee bent and an elbow across his face. He didn't move until Will was at his side tapping lightly on that forearm. "Hey, I brought you water."

Hannibal lifted his arm and peered out at Will from the slight shadows. Seeing Will dressed in his normal, nighttime attire, Hannibal unfolded himself and rolled onto his side towards Will. "Thank you," he said and lifted himself onto one elbow taking the glass of water with his other hand.

Will climbed into bed beside Hannibal and sat up against the headboard. "It was the least I could do."

Hannibal nodded in agreement and handed the empty glass back to Will after he had drained it. He scooted closer and draped one arm across Will's legs. "You were very naughty tonight."

"Did...did you enjoy it?" Will asked tentatively. He was sure there were parts Hannibal did not enjoy: like the floors, the clothes, maybe even the confession.   
  
"Oh yessss," Hannibal said sounding like a snake. He nuzzled Will's side and then snapped the waistband of his boxers with his teeth. "Naughty and wonderful, my dearest. You were a man on fire tonight. When Stravinsky composed his first ballet, he must have been gifted a vision of you by God."

Will was sure that compliment made perfect sense to Hannibal. As it was, Will had no idea what he was talking about, which was probably for the best. Hannibal could be obsequious with his compliments. If Will had recognized the classical reference, he probably would have turned beet red, certain that he didn't merit such praise.

"I'll play it for you tomorrow," Hannibal said keying-in to Will's thoughts.

"I would rather you didn't, Will said pushing Hannibal's damp hair away from his face.

"Nonsense. A quiet evening at home listening to music is just what the doctor ordered after what you put me through tonight."

"You are the doctor," Will pointed out.

"Exactly. And so I'm ordering it," Hannibal said and tugged at the front of Will's shirt indicating that he wished Will to lay down.

Will did and soon their limbs were knotted together in a tender embrace.

Hannibal lay with his eyes closed already drifting to sleep. Will kissed him on the forehead before he slipped into unconsciousness. "Tomorrow, I'll steal a lab coat from work," he whispered, "and next time we can play doctor with your old uniform."

"Whatever you wish, Agent Graham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'll be honest. This story didn't really need an epilogue, BUT DAT TITLE THOUGH! I couldn't stop myself. This pun needed to be made. I think Hannibal would be proud.
> 
> Want to subject yourself to more of my terrible jokes? [Come play with me on tumblr.](http://redfivewritingby.tumblr.com)


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